


Play Along, A-Hole

by TheVoiceofWrath (meet_your_fate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, POV Derek Hale, that becomes real by the end, which is really kind of distracting for Derek, with Stiles moaning like a porno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_your_fate/pseuds/TheVoiceofWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles have to go undercover at a couples retreat. For reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Along, A-Hole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrayolaDinosaurs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrayolaDinosaurs/gifts).



> This is (super belated) birthday fic for [crayoladinosaurs](http://crayoladinosaurs.tumblr.com/). It's set in some kind of nebulous alternate future where everyone is happy, IDEK. I've cleaned this up a bit since posting it on tumblr, so hopefully it looks a little better...

"Stop being so _distant_ , Jesus. We’re supposed to be _lovers_ ,” Stiles stage whispers, putting an obnoxious amount of emphasis on ‘lovers’.

Derek growls, low and dangerous. He’s sick of this entire sham and he just wants to go home. He’s missing Shark Week on TV.

"None of that," Stiles insists. He slips his hand into Derek’s back pocket and Derek wants to _run_ , just wants to pretend he never agreed to this ridiculous plan. Seriously, who would ever buy them as a couple? “We just have to make it to our cabin and then we can stop acting.”

Derek is looking forward to having a door between him and these strangers. They’re at a couple’s retreat, one that’s really just a cover for a ring of succubi and incubi who feed on the sexual energy of the couples. Or that’s what they think is going on; they’ve only been here for about an hour. The whole place reeks of magic, though. It _has_ to be something like that.

Why couldn’t an _actual_ couple come? Well, Stiles’s logic there is that they don’t want to trust the investigation to people who are _actually_ going to be being fed on. That would be irresponsible. And Derek has to admit, if only to himself, that he can see the sense in that. Doesn’t mean he has to like it, though…

Just as they’re approaching their cabin, one of the employees stops them with a grin on her face. “Hi, I’m Cindy! How are you liking it here so far?”

"It’s great," Stiles says, always quick with an answer when Derek would really rather just scowl. "We’re looking forward to the evening event tonight. I’ve never actually done the limbo before."

"Oh, yeah, it’s always a blast," Cindy says. She consults her clipboard. "Now, you’re in number… twenty-three? Yeah, that’s right. Just so you know, the cabins aren’t insulated all that well. Don’t be shy, though; lots of couples come back to their cabins for nooners. It’s nothing we haven’t heard before."

Derek just blinks at Cindy. What even…?

"Right," Stiles says. He nods and _smacks_ Derek’s ass and Derek is going to break every bone in Stiles’s body when this is over. Stiles winks cartoonishly at Cindy. “That’s what we’re here for. A nooner. Or afternoon delight, I guess, since it’s technically past noon. That’s what happy couples do. Especially ones who are so virile and, like, stuff. They do _nooners_.”

Derek grabs Stiles by the wrist, _hard_ , and says, “Excuse us…”

Cindy nods and watches them go, seemingly unperturbed by Stiles’s ridiculousness.

Derek gets the cabin door unlocked and shoves Stiles inside, locks the door behind them and glares at Stiles. He keeps his voice down low, though, because apparently sound _carries_ in this godforsaken place. “What in god’s name was _that_?”

Stiles glares. “That was me doing all the talking while you just stood there, jerk face. Thanks for the backup.”

"How was I supposed to back you up? It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. There was literally _nothing_ I could do.”

"Oh _ha_.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s get this nooner thing over with.”

Derek is confused. “You know we’re not _actually_ a couple, right…?”

Stiles does something complicated with his face, something involving squinty eyes and exasperation. “ _Obviously_. But they’re clearly expecting us to bang like really loud rabbits, right? So we have to put on a show.”

"Stiles, I’m not having _sex_ with you,” Derek insists. How did it come to this? What happened in the course of their acquaintanceship to make Stiles think Derek would be okay with this? Because he’s really not. At _all_. He’s not having sex with Stiles just to satisfy the expectations placed on them here and, besides, they were picked for this because they’re _not_ having sex. So the succubi and incubi couldn’t feed on them, right?

Never mind that Derek has maybe thought about Stiles like that before, when he’s all alone, when his mind wanders to lustful things and his hand wanders to his dick…

Stiles lets out a frustrated groan. “I don’t mean for _real_ , Derek, oh my _god_. I mean we _pretend_. Like moan and say cheesy porno lines and stuff. You know, put on a show? Literally? An act?”

Oh. Well, Derek supposes that makes sense… He rolls his eyes. “Fine. How?”

Stiles goes and flops loudly onto the bed, bouncing on squeaky springs. He grins and toes his shoes off before clambering up onto his feet on the mattress. He starts jumping slowly on it, a building sort of rhythm, but Derek can’t help but be reminded of the five monkeys jumping on the bed. Stiles had better not fall off and bump his head; Derek won’t be held accountable for any concussions Stiles may acquire.

"Oh, _Derek_ ,” Stiles moans, tone breathy and—and really not ridiculous. Not ridiculous at _all_. Derek can feel his face and ears start to grow warm. Where in the hell did Stiles learn to sound like that? “ _God_ , yes. Right there.”

Derek scowls deeper and looks intently at the wall, arms crossed defiantly.

Stiles throws a pillow at him. “Play along, A-hole. I’m not gonna do two voices,” he hisses.

Derek bares his teeth threateningly at Stiles, but all it does is make Stiles roll his eyes, totally unimpressed. When did puny humans stop being afraid of actual monsters? Or does Stiles just have absolutely no sense of self preservation?

Stiles lets out a sharper, louder sort of cry. “Derek. Derek, _fuck_.”

Derek’s instincts are all confused. He knows this isn’t real, knows Stiles is just putting on a show, but the way Stiles sounds… It sounds real. it sounds like Stiles is really making these sounds because of _him_ … He walks over towards the bed and sweeps Stiles’s legs out from under him, sending Stiles falling onto the mattress. Stiles _oofs_ in a way that is both satisfying and amusing, an indignant look on Stiles’s face once he figures out which way is up. It’s always funny when Stiles glares. To Derek, anyway. Stiles’s face wasn’t really made for glaring, so it seems out of place.

Derek knees onto the bed, but keeps one foot on the floor for leverage as he starts rocking the bed against the wall. The headboard bounces off of it in a steady cadence. It’s better, more realistic sounding than Stiles jumping on the bed. Less dangerous, too, because Derek doesn’t have to worry about any concussions. He reaches over and smacks Stiles in the belly. Not hard or anything, of course. Just hard enough to startle a grunt out of Stiles.

Stiles blushes over it. Good; Derek shouldn’t be the only one here who’s flustered. But then Stiles gets this _determined_ look about him and, oh no. Derek is somehow positive that _war_ has been declared here. He didn’t mean it, _honest_.

But Stiles runs his fingers through his own hair, pulling it every which way and mussing it intentionally, giving himself _sex hair_ and letting out the most wanton sound Derek has ever heard. It’s long and _needy_ and Derek’s rhythm with the bed falters a little.

Moon above. Has Stiles been _practicing_ making sex noises? Or is Stiles just winging it? Derek isn’t sure which is worse, but he has to fight down the urge to hunt down anyone else who might’ve heard these sounds from Stiles. He can’t help but let out a little rumble over it, a lupine sound that’ll never carry through the walls of the cabin, no matter how thin they are. Derek scents at the air then and swears he can smell—

No. He must be imagining it, right? Stiles wouldn’t be aroused by this, would he? He doesn’t even like Derek…

But Derek doesn’t mind pretending that it’s a possibility. He’s never been very vocal during sex, aside from soft animal sounds that he can’t help because of reasons relating to the people he’s had sex _with,_ but now, here where being loud is the _point_ , he lets himself groan. It’s loud and broken and Derek thinks it would sound better buried against Stiles’s neck. He hopes it doesn’t sound half as desperate as he feels, though.

Stiles is abusing his own lips, chewing on them like he always does only multiplied in intensity times like eleven. He’s going to look like he’s been making out with a vacuum cleaner or something, Jesus. “That’s it,” Stiles says. “C’mon. Harder. _Harder_ , oh god!”

And then Stiles comes. Not really. No, Derek would smell that, obviously. But Stiles _pretends_ to come and it’s really distracting anyway. He cries out and flails so that his fist knocks into the wall over the headboard, following it up with a long moan and a few sweet whimpers.

Derek is painfully hard in his jeans. He bangs the bed frame against the wall a few more times, quicker, before stopping and flopping down onto the mattress beside Stiles.

"Not even gonna hold me afterward, huh? Chivalry really is dead," Stiles says.

Derek rolls his eyes. Thankfully, he can always trust Stiles to ruin the moment.

♦

Later, when they decide that the succubi and incubi are really pretty harmless, after discovering that they dealt internally with the one rogue incubus who was draining people to fatal degrees, they pack up to head home. A few of the other couples and some of the non-supernatural employees give them knowing looks and a few of them even leer a little bit.

Cindy, who seemed so normal and bubbly before and is irritatingly so now, giggles at them as she checks them out of the cabin. “I guess you two didn’t really need much counseling, huh?”

"How do you mean?" Stiles asks.

"Well, if your _nooner_ was any indication, you get along just fine.”

Derek glowers at her. “Our sex life was never the problem.”

She seems really amused by that, but Stiles… Stiles is doing that thing where he’s flushed and embarrassed. Derek shouldn’t find it as endearing as he does.

The first half hour or so of the ride home is silent. Which is really pretty strange, considering Stiles is sitting right there in the passenger seat. Being totally quiet. _Contemplative_ , even. It’s kind of setting Derek on edge. Finally, Derek breaks. He caves and asks, “What?”

"What, what?"

Derek rolls his eyes at the road. It’s impartial, doesn’t give a damn how frustrated Derek feels. Still, it’s better than looking too closely at Stiles right now. “You know what. If you’re mad about something, too damn bad. I’m not gonna apologize.”

Letting out an amused huff, Stiles says, “I’m not mad, dude. Chill out.”

"Then what? For the love of all that is holy, _what_?”

Stiles sighs. He shakes his head and turns to look out the side window. “It’s stupid. I just… It was nice, is all. Pretending.”

"How do you mean?" Derek asks, frowning.

Stiles shrugs. “It just was. Maybe I kind of wish it wasn’t, you know. Pretend.”

Derek glances over at Stiles. “Which part?”

"… All of it. But especially the orgasms," Stiles says. Grumbles really, like he’s hoping Derek won’t be able to make out the words.

"You wish the orgasms were real."

"Don’t be a jerk, dude. You’re the one who asked."

Derek pulls the car over on the side of the road, shuts it off and looks more closely at Stiles. Stiles isn’t lying; Derek would’ve been able to tell from his heartbeat, which is agitated now from embarrassment and fear of rejection, but not from _deception_. “I wish it was real, too…”

The kiss Stiles unbuckles his seat belt and flings himself across the space between them for is real. The hands clutching at his shoulders and tugging at his shirt are real. When they make their way into the roomier backseat and out of their clothes, the orgasms they wring out each other are real. Real and _really great_.

The genuine sounds Stiles makes are somehow even better than the ones he faked in the cabin. In the aftermath, when they're pressed together and panting, Derek snuffles behind Stiles’s ear and starts thinking up ways to soundproof his loft; he doesn’t especially feel like sharing those sounds with the whole world.

He never said he wasn’t greedy…

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [tumblr](http://thevoiceofwrath.tumblr.com/), let's be bros ♥


End file.
